Tough Calls
by Isabel Juno
Summary: A difficult decision in a life and death matter like no other that PPTH staff have encountered....
1. A Decision

**Title: Tough Calls**

**Author: Isabel Juno**

**Warnings/Spoilers/Disclaimers/ Authors Notes: ... no spoilers, no real warnings... I only own my little House daydreams not the show or its copywrited stuff... erm... thanks to all my psycho friends who inspire me... like MJ0621, Jennifer Butterfly, HouseAddiction, Byte366, and Anne Herbold! THANKS GUYS and i'm sorry if i misspelled your names... i suck at spelling and such... **

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Tough Calls

By Isabel Juno

The metal was cool in his hands and he contemplated the dark oblivion. It was seducing him far more than any woman had and he made the decision with a deep breath. He didn't want to leave a note. He didn't want anybody to know why he was doing this. He knew people might wonder why he'd left his only explanation across the top of his doorframe. Engraved in the veneered wood were the words "Don't go looking for me". He knew they would anyway and he cursed them for it already. The metal was cold against his temple and his breath was short and labored. He closed his eyes and focused on pulling the trigger. It was so much more difficult than he'd thought it would be. The metal warmed gradually as he struggled to work up the nerve to just give in and end it all. He wanted that more than anything in the world. Well, maybe not more than anything, but close enough to where he would accept this gladly if only he could get the trigger to slide back and force a bullet to zoom through the barrel and then through his brain.

He sighed. He couldn't do it could he? He wanted to, God, how he wanted to. Then why the hell shouldn't he? He had earned the right to die if he wanted too. God didn't give a damn even if He did exist. He felt a tear slip from underneath his eyelid and he took a final breath as he made his decision and silently apologized to the two people who he'd miss the most.

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**TBC  
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	2. A Concerned Friend

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She entered his apartment silently and noted the darkened lamps with a worried glance. She must have come by while he was asleep. She turned to leave but something nagged at her like a patient protesting they hadn't cheated on their spouse. She slunk quietly down the hall and saw a soft reddish orange light from his room. It was a dim light but it was enough to illuminate the carving above his door, "don't go looking for me." What the hell kind of sense did that make? She neared the room and stopped dead in the doorway. He was sitting on his bed in a pair of jeans, gray socks, and his button up shirt unbuttoned. His cane lay discarded on the floor a few feet away. The USP two tone stainless steel nine millimeter handgun was pressed against his temple. His hand was shaking and his eyes were closed. She had no idea what to do and her voice caught in her throat as she struggled to say his name. She saw him mouth something and saw a tear slip from his eye. His finger tightened on the trigger. She dove for him praying to God that she wouldn't be too late.

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	3. Dark Remorse

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After a moment that seemed to last forever, she slammed into his body, her hands struggling to grab the gun away from him. His eyes shot wide open as the flying woman drilled into him and clawed at the gun in his hand. He realized who she was and relinquished the gun without a fight. She was sitting on his stomach and holding the gun as if it were a repulsive towel she wanted to jettison into the sun. She flung the gun away from them and she jumped when the gun discharged and a lamp on a small table by the door exploded. She looked out House who was glaring at the gun furiously.

"Now the damn thing goes off. It was so hard to even budge the damn trigger." He seemed to forget she was there. He glanced at her and then at her hands, which were resting on his exposed chest. "If I'd know this was what it took to get us in this," he paused and took advantage of her low cut shirt, "compromising of a position I'd have done it a long time ago." She glared at him with tears running down her cheeks. His eyes softened and his hand moved to brush her tears away. She leaned into the warmth of his hand slightly.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry Lisa." His eyes were soft and regretful. He pulled her down into a hug.

"Why were you going to?" She whispered in his ear, her voice full of pain. He held her tighter.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Well I want to know."

"That's too damn bad." There came a knock at the door. Neither one moved for a moment then Cuddy pushed herself off of House's chest and hurried to the door trying to make sure she didn't look too rumpled. She opened the door to find a blue uniformed police officer towering above her.

"We had a report of a shot fired in this residence." He stated simply in his deep voice. "Is everything alright?" The officer was looking over her and she glanced behind her to see that a very rumpled House had limped into his living room. His hair was a mess and his shirt hung open. His eyes were dead looking and that scared Cuddy. She looked at the cop uncertainly.

"Hang on a second." She walked over to House who was now coming out of his zombie-mode and looking almost panicked.

"Are you going to tell him?" House asked softly. He was watching the cop who was straining to hear what the two were saying. Cuddy took a breath and looked House dead in the eye.

"I won't tell anyone if you tell me why you were going to." House looked annoyed by her ultimatum. He weighed the options, tell her why and go to the loony-bin or let her tell the cop he'd tried to off himself and then go to the loony-bin. Neither seemed particularly appealing. He decided Cuddy was the safer and more enticing option. He nodded and she breathed a sigh of relief. She walked back over to the cop and told him everything was fine and the gun had gone off while House had been cleaning it and the only victim was a cheap lamp. The cop insisted on checking the apartment and after finding a certain lack of dead bodies and blood pools, he gave House a brief lecture on gun safety and left.

Cuddy watched House pour himself a drink. He poured her one too.

"You'll need it." He said as he handed it to her. She took it and they both sat down on House's couch and he began confiding his deepest darkest secrets that pained him far more than his leg ever had, to one of the two people he would have missed the most.

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